


Standing Still

by karatyrell



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble, F/M, Margaery Tyrell - Freeform, Married Couple, Miscarriage, Robb Stark - Freeform, how many more tags do I need, northern love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1393360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karatyrell/pseuds/karatyrell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robb and Margaery's life and children</p>
            </blockquote>





	Standing Still

**Author's Note:**

> This is pulled from my roleplay account. You can read more of my writing on herunfailingkindness.tumblr.com

**Title:**  Standing Still

**Ship:**  RobbxMargaery

**Verse:**  Unknown

**Warnings:**  tw: miscarriage.

 

                                                            [be still and know that I’m with you]

When the first letter arrived, from her father, she read it.

After months of not being able to receive ravens, she was sure his words would comfort her in someway.

                                               _They do not._

The scrawl reads words that stab at her heart, cause tears to prick in her eyes. She was no queen unless she produced an heir. It was her duty.

Her duty to her lord husband and to advance the Tyrell household.

It is days like these she wishes she was born a man. If she was one of her brother’s, she could be knighted, marry a woman of her choosing, not have to be forced to produce an heir.

It’s not that Robb didn’t pleasure her.

No, the feel of his body a top her’s, the best way to make a child, she was told, completes her. Or when she straddles him. The gentleness in his rough hands on her hips, the way he treats her body like glass. It was a pleasure she had never believed she would know.

But she did.

She burned the letter ignoring it.

The second letter arrives and she burns that as well.

She watches as the flames swallow letter after letter.

——————————————————————————————————————

She hears things around the keep.

'the king and queen lay together constantly but she has not produced an heir yet.'  
'perhaps she is infertile.'  
'such a shame. she's so pretty. he'll cast her aside soon then.'

Her cheeks heat with shame, and for weeks she can not bring herself to look at her husband.

What if’s started building in her head.

——————————————————————————————————————

Another letter arrives, this time it’s from her Grandmother, telling her not to worry about her father, telling her that the time will come soon.

She will bare the king a son, soon enough.

Margaery believes her and continues ignoring her father’s letters.

                                                               [be still and know that I am here.]

                      _Until Robb opens one._

Of course he confronts her on the matter. She has never seen him so angry. His blue gaze blazed with anger, his face flushed as he tossed the letter to the stone floor.

"Duty!" He yells. He’s never raised his voice to her before.

"Bedding me is your duty to your house? Bearing my children, being my wife? And what was that bit about my banners?"

She tries to explain that those are her father’s word and thoughts, not her own, but he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t come to her bed that night. Neither does Grey Wind.

She sobs that night away, and the next, and the next.

She spends three nights alone, before Robb comes to her bed again.

He beds her. And she finds that the possessiveness he gains, the roughness of it…she enjoys more than she thinks she should.

——————————————————————————————————————

She misses three moons before the maester confirms that she is indeed pregnant.

                                                            [be still and know that I’m with you]

Perhaps she reached too high, wanted to much, placed too much on the child before he even came into the world.

Because everything changed in her fifth month.

She awakens from her nap to a sharp pain in her side. Air. She can’t breath. She needs air.

Margaery grips her belly as the pain quakes though her system.

"Oh gods! Gods no!"

She screams as the pain feels like it’s ripping her into pieces.

The white sheets are soaked with blood, her night dress ruined, even the feather mattress she slept on was destroyed.

Their son was ripped from her womb.

She can’t bring herself to look at Robb.

Another letter arrives that day, announcing that her parents and grandmother were traveling North and would be there in a month.

Margaery wanted to laugh at the poor timing of it all, instead she sobbed, passing Robb the letter and curling up brokenly on their new bed, the feeling of emptiness taking hold of her bones.

She would wake up screaming in the night, Robb would hold her until one day, she flinched begging him not to.

——————————————————————————————————————

                                                                         [be still, be still, and know]

Despite warning her family in a letter that she had lost the child, and that there was no reason for them to make the trip. They arrived a month later.

Mace and Robb had a stare off, but it was Olenna, Margaery watched.

Her grandmother observed everything, watching the attentive and affectionate way Robb acted around her. She was keeping an eye on them for a reason.

Margaery had a feeling she knew what that reason was.

——————————————————————————————————————

Her husband came to her bed four months after she had lost their son. Cupping her face he whispered. “Do you still…My Lady Wife. My Queen. Do you?”

Margaery silenced him with a kiss and words of how much she loved him.

On that night, she proved it to him, again and again.

And he proved it to her as well.

Although the words were never exchanged.

——————————————————————————————————————

Nine moons later she labored for hours on end. Terror gripped her heart as she did. Would this one live?

The girl did.

Stronger than her brother had been.

Their spring in the middle of winter.

Their sweet princess.

The very personification of their love.

                                                                She would live.


End file.
